


The Scariest Thing to the Mind. . . Is the Unknown (Any Questions?)

by Pants (Smarty_Pants)



Series: Pumpkinstory [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Cleaning, Costumes, David S. Pumpkins - Freeform, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Husbands, KonMari | Marie Kondo's Tidying Method, M/M, Pumpkins, Saturday Night Live References, trying on clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smarty_Pants/pseuds/Pants
Summary: David is clearing out clothes he doesn't need anymore when he comes across a familiar costume. Patrick thinks he might try it on. Sexy times result. No beatboy skeletons required.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Pumpkinstory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955977
Comments: 18
Kudos: 47
Collections: Schitt's Creek Trick Or Treat





	The Scariest Thing to the Mind. . . Is the Unknown (Any Questions?)

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCTrickOrTreat](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCTrickOrTreat) collection. 



> Happy Halloween!

David wasn’t exactly sure what to tackle next but he thought Patrick would be pretty proud of the progress he’d already made purging his wardrobe. He’d examined, sorted, and let go of a lot of clothes he no longer wore—short-sleeved floral shirts, baggy drop-crotch shorts, a couple of sweaters that had been attacked by moths in the days before he’d made (ok, _helped_ _make_ ) a lovely little cedar chest with Alexis’s ex-boyfriend.

He was grateful Stevie had let him store his extra clothes in the Love Room at the motel for these last few years, but now that he and Patrick were moving into the stone cottage of their dreams, it was time to drop even more of his baggage—literally—this time in the form of designer clothes.

These luxury items had been a great comfort when he first came to Schitt’s Creek, but now that he had his life, this beautiful life, his business, his _husband_ , the clothes were a security blanket he no longer needed.

Well, OK. Some of them.

Of course, David Rose wouldn’t be  David Rose if he wasn’t keeping many of his most-loved, most iconic sweaters. But surprisingly he wasn’t finding it that hard to part with some lesser treasures, things Stevie had called “funky” on more than one occasion. He’d said goodbye to some Tom Ford and Balenciaga and even Givenchy. He farewelled the ultra-cozy sweater Stevie had once called one chromosome away from a crochet blanket as well as the voluminous Rick Owens cape sweatshirt she once said looked like an elephant’s sad ball sack. Whatever clothes David was ready to part with were going into boxes for Ray to sell on eBay for a commission in his latest side business.

In his quest to declutter, David had until now largely ignored the closet where he kept his small selection of bespoke suits. It had only been a month since he last opened it and added his Thom Browne wedding suit to the collection. He knew he wouldn’t be getting rid of any of them, most especially not the one he wore on the happiest day of his life. But just to be safe, he peeked inside where jackets, pants and skirts were lined up on padded hangers. He touched the luxurious fabrics and carefully smoothed the lapels and creases. There in the back, something caught his eye. Something that absolutely, reasonably should be put in the “go” pile.

After all, it made no sense at all for David to hang on to a tacky, garish suit covered in orange pumpkins.

-

_ “I’m David Pumpkins and I’m gonna scare the hell out of you.” _

Smiling, he plopped himself onto the red satin bedspread as he started the SNL skit he had pulled up on YouTube. He held his phone above his head as he lay on his back and noticed that he could see himself in the mirror on the ceiling.  _ Okay, ugh. That would not do. _ He flipped over on his side and snickered as the video continued to play on the small phone screen.

He hadn’t watched this all the way through in awhile but he and Patrick had certainly joked about it enough times.

_ “Scared speechless?” _

_ “Oh, no. I’m just trying to wrap my head around David Pumpkins. I mean. Are we supposed to know who that is?” _

_ “Yeah, it’s just a guy in a pumpkin suit with two beatboy skeletons. I don’t get how that’s scary.” _

_ Oh but you will,  _ David thought. He watched the rest of the video curled on his side, giggling, sighing, remembering how things had unspooled after he’d finally given himself over to the ridiculous joy that was watching Tom Hanks embody the character of David Pumpkins.

After they’d made up and David wore the suit to Twyla’s Halloween party, Patrick quite happily took it off him later that night. The following year they didn’t even make it to the party when Patrick had asked David very nicely for a pumpkin-flavored lap dance and one thing led to another. David was not complaining at all. Somehow this dumb thing that had divided them at first was becoming the deepest of private jokes that could make either of them completely hysterical or horny, or usually both . . .both.

The video ended and the suit lay on the bed next to him. David wasn’t sure what to do about that—this bright, weird costume that really didn’t neatly fit into either of the boxes he was filling. So, he set the jacket and pants on the bed and decided not to decide yet. He would go grab a bite to eat at the café and come back when he had something in his stomach and could think a little more clearly.

-

Patrick was pretty sure David was in the Love Room sorting out his clothes and was surprised to find the door unlocked but no husband inside.

“David?” he called out, able to see perfectly well that he wasn’t in the room and the bathroom door was open, so nope, not there either. Still. Saying David’s name was like breathing to Patrick; half the time he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

Patrick entered the room, noting with some excitement the boxes on one side of the bed labeled “Ray – eBay.” He hadn’t been sure how David would do with this task but it appeared that he’d really taken to it and decided to let go of some things he no longer loved. He supposed David was only planning to keep those that “sparked joy.” Patrick smiled, recalling how David explained the KonMari method at length to him as they lay naked in bed the previous night, spent and sated from taking turns taking each other apart.

“You only keep things that speak to the heart, Patrick,” David had whispered with his lips pressed into his husband’s sweat-slick skin, “and discard the items that no longer spark joy.” David then described Marie Kondo’s tidying philosophy in the surest, tenderest voice. It was so compelling that Patrick could feel himself growing half-hard again just thinking about David’s new method of folding his socks.

The box labeled “Keep – Dream Cottage” caught Patrick’s eye. He nodded with affection as he saw some of David’s favorite sweaters and pants carefully, lovingly placed there. He stroked the cashmeres and patted the wools and, closing his eyes, imagined the feel of David’s broad chest and solid biceps just under the surface of these soft knits. Although David wasn’t there, Patrick could still smell him in the room, in the air, on the clothes. He breathed his cedar-citrus scent in, all at once again, as always, enchanted.  _ David_. 

Then Patrick noticed— _how could he have not noticed?—_ the bright orange and black fabric on the bed halfway between the boxes, as if it were suspended halfway in the decision between eBay and Cottage, Go or Keep.

“ _David. . . S . . . Pumpkins . . _ .” Patrick murmured to himself, touching the suit. “ _So, um, what? He has a middle initial now? I am SO IN THE WEEDS with David Pumpkins_ ,” he said aloud, words swallowed into a smile. 

Item by item, he held up the ensemble that he had bought for David—Rose not Pumpkins—two Octobers ago. Jacket and pants in that crazy fabric, along with a matching tie, and solid black oxford shirt. Patrick had thought the video was funny and wanted to share it, then they argued, such a stupid argument really. But then they’d made up easily and it remained a shared joke between them ever since.

Oh, it was truly a ridiculous suit—but David, gorgeous David, one-of-a-kind David looked anything but ridiculous in it. His thick dark hair in his swoopy pompadour style, his impossibly sexy stubble, his long lean body in those form-fitting pants and his sturdy shoulders filling out the jacket and making the whole thing actually look like something of quality.

Suddenly Patrick had an urge to try the suit for himself. He’d never actually worn it—and he was pretty sure the legs of the pants would be too long and it would likely be far too tight in the thighs and ass . . . but what the hell. If David was getting rid of the DSP suit, they could get one last laugh from it.

He slipped into the bathroom, knowing there was a chance that David would be returning soon and if he was going to do it, he figured, he better go big and give his man the full effect. The black shirt was not unlike one that Patrick himself had, he noticed, buttoning it up—but the rest of the outfit was far outside his comfort zone. The pants, as suspected, were too long while also being very snug in the thigh and zipper region. Clearly Patrick would not be able to put anything in these pockets. The jacket fit decently, more or less—it had obviously never been tailored to David and was always a bit roomy on him. This was good since Patrick needed that extra give with his much more muscled arms and pecs. He tied the tie into a basic windsor knot and gave himself a slow wink in the bathroom mirror.

“ _How’s it hanging?”_ he leered at his reflection in his best David S. Pumpkins voice.

“Well. It’s hanging pretty well actually,” came a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“David!” Patrick all but bounded out of the bathroom with the energy of an excited puppy. He didn’t give David time to register a reaction about the suit before he was kissing his mouth hungrily, pulling his hips toward him. “I missed you.” 

“Mmm,” said David, licking his lips as they parted, savoring the taste of Patrick. He glanced down at his clothes. “Someone’s playing dress-up?”

“Yeah, right. What do you think, babe?” Patrick snuck in that particular endearment to get a particular reaction. David had long ago declared it incorrect but he seemed to allow it when they were joking about the video. He raised an eyebrow in mock outrage but his mouth was smirking up at the edges and his eyes were filled with mischief.

Patrick twirled around so David could get a good look. And David looked.

“Hey, get it? Because I’m. . . I’m Patrick B. Pumpkins!” Patrick proclaimed, doing a shoulder shimmy as he shook his hands, pointing with index and middle fingers extended, his thumbs akimbo. He started making the beatbox rap do-do-dos and moved in to kiss his husband again, edging along the seam of David’s lips, parting his lips with his seeking tongue, then pulling back as David leaned further in.

_ “Whassmahname?”_ he asked, making his eyes go a little crazy. David smiled, feeling his lips tingle where Patrick just was.

_ “Patrick. . . B. . . Pumpkins,”  _ David answered seriously, overenunciating the “k”s and popping the “p” sounds.

_“Any questions?” _

“Oh, yes. Mr. Pumpkins. See, I actually do have some questions. . .”

“Oh yeah?”

“Come a little closer and you’ll—umm—I just need to—”

This time David grabbed Patrick a little more roughly and pulled him close, fisting the pumpkin tie. Patrick struggled to swallow as the fabric pulled tight around his throat and he felt his cock fill, pressing against the inseam of the pants. David’s hot and hungry mouth kissed him everywhere, moving across Patrick’s face, his jaw, his ear, his open mouth.

Keeping one hand tight around the tie, David reached under the suit jacket with his other. His fingertips scrabbled up Patrick’s back, and he scratched his nails along his broad back muscles through his shirt fabric. Patrick felt himself melting under David’s touch.

“Mmmm, okay. Take. . .this. . .off. . .” mumbled David as he tugged on the jacket. Patrick complied, slipping it off his shoulders and neither of them caring as it fell to their feet. David let go of his grip on the tie and began to loosen the knot, pulling it low and unfastening the top two buttons of the black shirt that strained against Patrick’s chest.

“Mr. Pumpkins, your tongue, your lips,” David murmured. “You taste so sweet.” Patrick thought immediately of the artisan chocolate truffles David loved so much. David’s mouth further explored Patrick’s jaw and neck, working his teeth on skin, nibbling the tender spot below his ear.

“David—” Patrick breathed. “I need—” A deep whine escaped from the back of his throat. David moved his lips to the hollow of Patrick’s throat and began to suck, marking up the pale pink tender skin with the edge of his teeth.

“I know. Yes, I know you do. God,” He moved his hands to Patrick’s hips and pulled him close, pressing their growing cocks flush against one another. The feeling of Patrick wanting him made David feel dizzy with his own desire even after all this time. That they could get like this still, as if everything was new. Like those early relationship days when they couldn’t keep their hands—and other parts—off each other. He hoped they would never lose this.

“I got you. I’ve got you,” David said. Patrick was grinding his pelvis against David and rolling his hips suggestively. He started to whine again and then the sound deepened into more of a growl.

“Oh really, Pumpkins?” David said. He roughly pulled off Patrick’s tie and began to unbutton his shirt until it was hanging open and he was able to pull it off his shoulders. David took in the sight of Patrick’s muscled chest appreciatively. He lowered his mouth to suck roughly at Patrick’s pert nipple and heard him gasp.

“David, damn,” panted Patrick and David worked the nub between his lips and teeth. “David—"

“You look so good for me,” David murmured against his skin. “This black shirt—seeing you like this always—do you know—”

“I know,” Patrick nodded. “I know.” The shirt was very much like one he wore to serenade David back when they first started dating. He’d noticed it immediately when he put it on and he should have known that David would make the same connection. He hummed a few bars of “The Best” and David shivered.

David undid the sleeve buttons and pulled the dark shirt all the way off, tossing it to the floor. He then began to walk Patrick back toward the bed until at the last second, Patrick flipped them around so that David was the one whose legs hit the edge of the mattress and he was pushed down to a sitting position, his hands resting on Patrick’s hips. He gazed up at his husband, eyes dark and full of want.

“Okay, babe. _Are you . . . ready for this ride_?” Patrick asked, still cheekily quoting lines from the video as he thrust his hips forward. David nodded greedily.

“What about these?” David asked, rubbing his hands along the edges of his husband’s thighs in the pumpkin pants. He could see Patrick’s thick cock was straining the trouser seams.

“ _Enter at your own risk_ ,” Patrick said with a wink and grin. David widened his legs and Patrick crowded between them. David’s hands wandered up to the inviting bulge and he traced his fingertips along the tender ridges of Patrick’s penis that he could feel through the thin fabric. He could see Patrick’s abdominal muscles flexing as he worked to maintain his composure and not completely fall apart while David slowly inched down the zipper. 

“That’s—” Patrick tried to say something but the words floated away as David tugged the pants to his knees and pressed his face to Patrick’s crotch and began to mouth against the wet spot on his dark blue boxer-briefs. “Oh, I— Oh please, David—”

“Please?” he echoed, looking up at Patrick.

“Please. Oh god. _Pleaseholdon. . . as_ oh oh _. . .asthissssaride_ . . .”

“Hmm? What was that, babe?” David edged his tongue along the waistband of Patrick’s underwear.

_ “This. . ._ahh _, ride. It goes._ Um _, it goessss bump. . .in . . .the. . .the. . .” _ He was unable to complete the line as David released Patrick’s cock from his briefs, rock hard and leaking, and took him into his mouth. Patrick also could not stop himself from pushing his pelvis forward on each mumbled word.

_ “The night?” _ David asked, muffled, his mouth now full of Patrick. He swallowed his length all the way down and Patrick held on to David’s shoulders as he pushed against the back of David’s throat. David gently brought Patrick’s hands to his own hair, their established signal for fuck-my-face-if-you-want-to-love. And so Patrick began to thrust more roughly into David’s wet, willing mouth.

“Oh god, David. You are incredible. Always so so good, I—”

Patrick pulled out, letting David catch his breath. He rubbed his cock along the seam of David’s lips before feeding it to him, pushing back in slowly, this time bumping against the inside of his cheek. His hands rested on the sides of David’s neck.

“David, ho-o-ww is your mouth real? Oh god. Oh god, I want. I want— oh fuck—” Patrick babbled as David took him closer and closer to the edge. Patrick brought his hand up to cup David’s cheek gently even as he picked up the rhythm again. David gazed up at his husband with his warm chocolate eyes blinking through his long lashes. When Patrick saw tender emotion mixed with pure filthy lust reflected in his blown pupils, that was all it took for him to come down David’s throat, holding his head and thrusting hard as he spurted again and again, filling his mouth, spilling onto his lips. David’s quick tongue darted around the edges of his mouth, licking up every drop.

“What was that . . .” David asked, his voice low and hoarse, “about a bumpy ride?”

Chuckling, Patrick pulled David up to standing. He kicked off his pants and his underwear, now completely naked and feeling a bit sex-dizzy. “ _I’m just . . .so crazy for. . .David . . . Rose-kins_?” he murmured, still trying to keep the joke going even as he felt his brain had gone mostly offline. He tugged off David’s sweater and pulled down his artfully ripped white jeans and his Tom Ford briefs, not stopping until they were both naked and pressed flush against each other, David’s erect cock against Patrick’s softening but still semi-attentive dick. They parted only as long as it took Patrick to shove the boxes to the ground and then Patrick pushed David back down onto the bed. In another circumstance, David would object to everything—this room, the red satin sheets, the overall aesthetic—but they were both too far gone. He just couldn’t care about any of that when Patrick was on him, holding him down, his mouth moving, tasting and consuming every inch of David’s skin.

“I’m close, Patrick. I’m . . . oh, so close,” David said hotly. Patrick was paying all his attention to David’s thighs, kissing them tenderly, then lightly nibbling, before randomly biting and sucking hard, then blowing gently on the purpling spots. “Please, Patrick,” he urged. “Please.” Patrick nodded and took David’s length into his mouth. He bobbed up and down on his swollen prick as David felt a throaty giggle rise up in him. Patrick looked up at David through his eyelashes, a look that never failed to bring David to climax.

“Babe,” whispered David, on the edge, ready to take the plunge over. “Babe,” he said, apropos of nothing. “Oh. God. Baaabe baabe baabe,” he began to chant breathlessly as his abdomen muscles started clenching and Patrick worked his tongue and jaw harder. David let out a shout as he spilled into Patrick’s warm and welcoming mouth.

“Mmm,” Patrick breathed, his eyes twinkling. “ _It’s. . . um, onehundredfloorsoffrights. Yeah. I’ll probably be screaming too. Babe_ ,” Patrick said. David huffed on principle even as his body was trembling with tiny aftershocks. 

“Okay, look, _babe_ is still technically incorrect,” he said, as he settled on his side. Patrick immediately slotted in behind him as the big spoon, resting his crotch against David’s perfect ass, his knees pressed behind David’s, his arms around his chest.

“Mmm, is it now?” Patrick said softly in his ear. “It seems like you were  _technically_ the one screaming _babe_ , Babe.”

“Hush,” David murmured. “Just you hush and hold me.” They lay wrapped together in silence for a few moments, just listening to their breathing in sync, until David spoke again. 

“I was thinking. . . you know, today I let go of a lot of old things, all those clothes from a previous life I don’t need anymore,” he said quietly. Patrick smiled and buried his nose into David’s tousled hair. “But, well, I just thought. . . I thought that maybe we should keep the pumpkin suit a little longer.”

“Oh yeah?” Patrick said, his head feeling heavy and thick. “Why’s that?”

“If I’m being honest, seeing you wearing that ridiculous getup _quote-spoke to my heart-unquote_. You could even say it sparked my joy.” Patrick made a small amused sound in his ear. “Okay, okay, well it sparked something,” David said with a giggle. “Anyway, I wouldn’t mind seeing it on you again occasionally.”

Patrick laughed and pulled David in even tighter. “Mmm. Whatever you say, Mr. Rose. And hey, maybe we should switch who wears the pumpkin suit each Halloween just so we can take turns being the one who gets to take it off.”

David, his heart filled with joy, snuggled back into his husband’s arms. His brain began to pleasantly shut down as he dreamed of the seasons they had stretched out before them—warm autumn days, cool October nights, laughter, passion, and always the taste of sweet Patrick on his lips. 

He was all in on this plan. Most definitely all in.

**Author's Note:**

> Big massive huge thanks to my superstar beta, 8jodaiko. You’re the best, partner! 😉


End file.
